Adventure
Into the Sun
Acidic whiskey burned my stomach as I woke to a desert sun that pierced through the train’s window, a train that I had no recollection of boarding. I panicked for a moment as scattered memories flashed back. We had been doing shots in the Bellagio suite, then the craps table, back to the bar-
By K. C. Wexlar3 years ago in Fiction
A Wish Gone Wrong
Her mind still half asleep, Penny creaked open her eyes, expecting to look upon a plain white ceiling when instead, it was yellow with pink flowers. Penny, thinking that she was still dreaming, closed her eyes for a second before opening them again. The ceiling hadn’t changed.
By Rebecca Patton3 years ago in Fiction
The Long Forever Way Home
Auwruun Loneliness, desolation, and fear have a scent and Auwruun’s tiny body had soaked deep in it. The men who came and touched him all over called “Bintang” (Star) at each encounter. His name was Auwruun from the time his mother uttered it. He tried to tell them that, but they never listened.
By The Dani Writer3 years ago in Fiction
Long Train Running
As I gradually swam into consciousness, I became aware of a myriad of other sensations. Pain… no, not quite pain. Fire? Heat. Intense heat on my face. And light, bright red through my eyelids, which felt sticky and wet. I felt weighed down by bricks, but also had a sense of movement. Yes, I was in some sort of moving vehicle, but lying prone on the floor, not belted into a seat. A van, or truck? No, the thrum of the wheels wasn’t quite right. With some effort, I rolled over so that the light wasn’t directly in my face. I raised my hands and wiped the stickiness from my face, slowly opened my eyes. I was in some sort of compartment with a door on one side and a window on the other, padded benches facing fore and aft to the direction of the movement. The glass in the door revealed a corridor with windows on the opposite side. A train. I looked around my compartment. Room for six, but I was alone. My backpack was on the luggage rack overhead. I sat up. The door was locked from the outside and I saw no mechanism for opening the windows even a crack for a bit of fresh air, but within the cubicle I was unbound.
By Randi O'Malley Smith3 years ago in Fiction
A Leap on the Loop Line
“This is a safety announcement. It is not permitted to cycle, skateboard or roller-skate anywhere within this station” - The canny, echo of an announcement called out to every crevice of the station startling Philo Green to the core, as he shook and quivered with a cold chill from the midnight air.
By Joseph Barnett3 years ago in Fiction
The Runaway Train
Loud clanking sounds of metal reverberated from the hustle of the train yard. Switches methodically ushered each train to its appropriate parking rail. Men with overalls and helmets yelled vicariously to each other, their voices bounding from one end of the freight cars to the other. Scents of old oil and metal swirled up into the air.
By Elana Lewis3 years ago in Fiction
Jack and the Runaway Train
Jack and the Runaway Train During the great depression of the 1930’s unemployed people in North America frequently rode freight trains across the continent in an endless pursuit to find work. In the freezing cold of winter and the stifling heat of summer, they travelled in open box cars, sometimes riding for days to get to a hopeful destination.
By Michael Duff3 years ago in Fiction
Trainsquatting. Runner-Up in The Runaway Train Challenge.
Carriage 2732 It was painfully bright, the morning I woke up. The window shutters were down, but the sun shone through the slits, forcing my eyes open. My brow was sweaty and my mouth, dangerously dry. I felt mildly irritable but well rested. I stretched like I’d never stretched before, feeling every muscle, every fibre in my body snapping and popping with ecstasy. Then, ever so gradually, I began to look around.
By Tarun Chandy3 years ago in Fiction
A Godless Eden
I shifted in my bed, grumbling a handful of groggy obscenities at the ruckus upstairs. It sounded like a plane was having a drunken affair with a steam engine, all roaring wind and bucking thuds. The damn tenants upstairs didn’t seem to understand how thin the floors were. If I so much as took a step out of bed, the grumpy prick below me would know. I knew this, of course, because every time I so much as tiptoed on a creaky board the bastard would scream like I'd just killed his cat.
By Daley Malpass3 years ago in Fiction
